


I can't believe it's not padlock

by Penstrokes



Category: Don't Hug Me I'm Scared (Short Film)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Mostly humor, some slice of life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-13 05:12:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1213987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penstrokes/pseuds/Penstrokes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of non romantic, non murder filled one shots with the DHMIS characters. Not for or against any pairings. Mostly poking fun at the fact that  all of the fics are Padlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Orange Incident

~The Orange Incident~

 

Soon after Tony's little song had ended, the puppets sat in silence. Again, they were shocked, if not more traumatized this time than whatever the Notebook had wound up doing. 

His efforts, something that Notebook thought of as a rite of becoming sentient, had not gone unnoticed. She would have to pay him a little visit, perhaps get creative with him as well.

Days passed since Tony became self aware, or at least made himself known, that two finally and formally met. 

The puppets were out of the house for the day, doing whatever it was that they did out there. Tony took the time to look around the house, wondering if there were others like him.

"Hello, Friend. I saw your little performance yesterday. I must say, it was quite creative." She pipped up as he passed her, perched on the shelf.

Tony looked around, searching for the source of the voice.  
"I must say, I don't recall ever seeing you. This is quite out of the blue." Tony greeted back, upon seeing her.

"It was quite impressive but it could have been more creative."

Tony took some offense to that. He'd worked hard at it and this over glorified pile of paper had the gall to say his little presentation hadn't been good enough? 

"I wouldn't mean to be rude but I believe that it was more than 'creative' enough." He replied, visibly annoyed.

"Come now, a little more 'flare' wouldn't' have hurt. Maybe a bit more color." She continued, pretending to ignore his annoyance.

..................

 

The two were in the kitchen shortly afterwards. After Note had insisted repetitively, Tony reluctantly agreed hoping that she'd pipe down about it.

She pointed at the quaint basket of fruit on the table.  
"This orange. What do you see in it?" She asked curiously.  
Tony, who was bored out of his mind at this point, picked it up.  
As soon as he touched it, it began to rot.  
The firm, fragrant fruit began to grow soft and fuzzy. Soon it decomposed into a heap. 

He stared at it for a moment. It was no shock to him, in fact he had been expecting it to happen. Perhaps even willed it to be.  
"...Death." He said bluntly.

"M-My orange!" She sobbed.  
Note stared in shock, tears formed in her eyes. Her orange-it was ruined! No longer was it the small, cute and lively fruit that greeted her every morning and kept her company during the times when the puppets were out of the house, leaving her alone.

"You-you bastard." She cried as the shock wore off and turned into anger. How dare he? This was her territory. How dare he destroy her sole companion during the lone hours of solitude that was the artist's struggle.

A fearsome storm of pencils and ink flew in Tony's direction. The clock did his best to dodge the incoming projectiles with his lanky form. 

She chased him back up the wall where she spent the next several weeks glaring at him.


	2. Red, Roy and Crowe part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> since the names Harry, Robin and Manny aren't confirmed I will be referring to them as Red, Crowe and Yellow (will get a proper 'd' name later.)

"Hey Red." He started, standing outside the closed computer room. "Can I use the computer for a little bit?" 

Crowe had been living with Red for a few months now, yet he couldn't help but fall back on old habits. He almost always asked permission to use this or do that, despite that he now technically was responsible for at least half the stuff in the house. Red had been very laid back on that, so long as you didn't break anything or mess with his stuff you were free to do whatever.  
He stood outside the door, shifting from one foot to the other as he waited for a response. Red was always a bit...slow to respond to other people's words.  
Minutes crawled by at an unbearably slow pace.  
Crowe decided to try again.  
This time, he knocked. Perhaps Red hadn't heard him?   
"Hey Red, are you busy?"   
This time, he got some sort of response. Not in words. No, instead he heard someone...or perhaps something, shuffling around in there, knocking things over and moving stuff around. 

Crowe sighed and decided to come back later.

He went to go read a book, only to find Red sitting there. An overwhelming sense of confusion and mild panic overtook him.  
"Red, were you using the computer earlier?" Crowe asked.   
Red muted the t.v. before continuing.  
"No, havn't touched it all day." he answered before turning back to his show. "You don't have to ask to use it. I've told you already." 

"It's not that, Red. I think...there might be someone in the computer room." 

Sighing, he muted the t.v. again. 'What do you mean someone's in the computer room? The door's jammed a bit. Gotta push it open really hard sometimes." 

"I'm serious. I heard noises coming from inside." Crowe so desperately wanted Red to believe him. To not be alone if there was someone in there. "What if it's a thief?" He hoped to appeal to some part of Red, even it was just the part that only cared if something was getting scratched or broken.

Red looked at Crowe skeptically...or what he thought might have been skepticism. It was hard to tell what Red was feeling most of the time.

"Fine, I'll go check it out." He had finally conceded. Getting up he muttered something about paranoia and seeing things that weren't there.

Red stood at the door to the computer room, Crowe showing up not long afterwards.  
He pushed it, hard.   
It didn't budge. 

He tried again, this time jiggling the handle. From inside the sound of moving about could definitely be heard.   
Red stepped back, shocked. There was someone inside after all. 

"Crowe, go call the police." He whispered. The mat of hair in front of his mouth, dampening the sound a little bit more.

"But what about you? What if he comes out?" Crowe asked concerned. 

The monster pushed the bird off towards the kitchen. "Just go." 

Crowe took off towards the kitchen, both reluctant and relieved that he wasn't the one standing in front of the door.

Red cleared his throat.  
"Hello? You seem to have found our way into our computer room. I'd like to ask you to leave." In hindsight, this wasn't very bright. But he could at least be polite. There was a part of him that hoped that it'd be this easy to simply ask him to leave.

Another part of him reasoned that at least he could say he had said 'please.'

His efforts were rewarded with heavy breathing and now aggressive noises.  
Still no sign of the culprit holed up in the room. Red stepped back, pensive about what would happen if the intruder popped out. Would they be armed? He hoped to only keep them preoccupied enough that they wouldn't get away before the police showed up.

"Look, sir...or Ma'am. I-" Red was promptly cut off.

The door swung up, the moment of truth! It was all fight or flight now, too late to back down!

Before him stood a tall yellow man. The disheveled, thinning blue hair complimented his crooked nose. He donned a pair of large brown overalls with the letter 'R' sewed neatly onto the front...it was the only 'neat' thing about him.

Behind him, Red could see the computer room was also in a state of disarray. The computer was fine though. 

For what seemed like forever and yet, not long enough the two stared at each other in deafening silence. 

Then, under heavy breathing, almost inaudible to distinguish from the labored breaths came a single word.

"Yes?"

The stranger had spoken.


End file.
